


A Matter of Perspective

by Suaine



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Discussion of Rape, Discussion of sexual assault, Gen, Loss of Control, M/M, Wolfsbane Made Them Do It, dub-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-08
Updated: 2014-05-08
Packaged: 2018-01-24 00:14:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1584629
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Suaine/pseuds/Suaine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek walks into the Sheriff's station and wants to be arrested.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Matter of Perspective

**Author's Note:**

> Entry for the first Bonus challenge of the mating games 2014. Team Hunter represent.

When the Sheriff came back from an early lunch at the greasy diner down the street, Derek Hale sat in the bullpen of the Beacon Hills Sheriff Department like an unwanted delivery. The kid was hunched over, head down, something like defeat written all over his body. John hadn't seen him like this for years, not since the fire.

 

“Hey, Derek, are you okay?”

 

Derek flinched and somehow withdrew even further into his shell. “Sheriff, I-” he swallowed and managed to meet John's eyes. “I'm here to report a crime.”

 

John had a feeling that this, whatever it was, wouldn't be pleasant. He sighed, bringing out the Sheriff persona. “Please, if you would step into my office, Mr. Hale.” It wasn't a suggestion, for all that it was said gently. Derek nodded and made to follow him.

 

“Now why don't you tell me what happened, son?” The quiet tone of voice was supposed to be soothing, but Derek reacted as if slapped. In fact, John could swear the kid's hands were shaking before he balled them into tight fists.

 

“I want to report a rape.”

 

John took a deep breath and thought about all the things he'd assumed since Kate Argent had come back to town, died, then come back again as the big blue monster from Monsters Inc. only evil. “Before you continue, I want you to know that there's a statute of limitations for statutory rape. If this is about what happened before the fire, I don't think there's anything we can do, legally.” He didn't want to think about what Kate might have done this time around. What she still might do, wherever she was right now.

 

Derek looked suddenly horrified, shaking his head. “No, I. No. This is not about... it's Stiles.”

 

John dropped his pen. Something fiery and huge spread through him at the thought of his little boy being hurt. “What?”

 

“I need you to arrest me,” Derek said, almost defiant.

 

In hindsight, John wasn't proud of what happened next. The blinds were drawn, they had some amount of privacy, and before he knew it, John had his gun out and pressed to Derek's forehead. For all that they were magical, even werewolves couldn't put back together a brain that was splattered all over the walls.

 

“I swear to god, if you've hurt him, I will pull this trigger and no one out there is going to care even a little bit about some lowlife like you disappearing.”

 

Derek had his eyes closed, head angled back so it hit the wall, and he looked... he looked tense, resigned, and John had seen that expression on his wife's face so many times in those last days. Pain and the certainty of death drawing their bodies into tight curls. There was no fight left in him and that wouldn't have pulled him back normally, but he knew all about Derek Hale from his son, who'd not been able to shut up about him since they brought him back from South America bleeding and beaten, but alive and fighting, still.

 

John engaged the safety of his gun and stepped back, leaning against his desk, arms crossed. “Tell me what happened.”

 

Derek didn't move, still waiting for John to take his shot, probably. When he spoke, his voice had an ethereal quality, a whisper of a sound.

 

“We were in the Preserve. I don't remember why, it was probably Stiles' idea. We came across a patch of wolfsbane, a type I'd never seen before. He was... excited, tried to grab some for Deaton. I... fell. I don't remember how, but I ended up in the flowers, breathing them in, their sap all over my skin.”

 

John had an idea that maybe “fell” was a creative way to say Stiles had played with him, pushed him around because Derek Hale, the Derek Hale they'd come to know, would let Stiles do almost anything to him for a laugh.

 

“I felt hot, feverish. There was pain rushing through me in waves and it got worse over time. Stiles tried to help me get out of the woods, tried to bring me to the clinic. When he touched my bare skin, I felt hot and cold at the same time and I knew. I knew that if only he'd _touch_ me, I'd be fine.”

 

John swallowed. “So you forced yourself on him to survive, is that what you're telling me?”

 

Derek jerked, his eyes snapping open and flashing bright, brilliant blue. There was a hint of fang when he spoke next. “I told him to run. I didn't know how long I'd be able to control myself. I was slipping.” Derek deflated and his voice was thin, thready, when he finally got to the point. “He figured it out, of course he did. He's brilliant on a bad day. I should have tried to get away, or talked him into getting help, not... not that. He shouldn't have had to do that.”

 

John closed his eyes and took a deep, calming breath. The white hot rage that'd been there before was replaced with a bone-deep weariness and a sadness for these kids, Derek included. Maybe Derek most of all. He rubbed his temples and sighed.

 

“So what, exactly, do you think is the crime here?”

 

Derek visibly trembled. “He's seventeen. I'm twenty-four. He'd never want that, not with someone like me.”

 

John couldn't help it, he crouched down in front of the kid sitting in his office, and tried to be as small and unobtrusive a presence as he could. Normally, he'd get a female officer for this kind of thing, but with Derek's history he didn't think it would matter one way or another. He didn't reach out, not unless the werewolf indicated that he'd be okay with it. This whole thing had already gone to shit and back, but he could do this right, at least now.

 

“Derek, if you can, I want you to look at me.” John trained his voice to be gentle, but not patronizing. All he could do was offer. “I'm not going to arrest you.”

 

“But I-”

 

“Please listen to me, just for a little while, okay? You were drugged against your will, forced into a state of sexual arousal, and from what you said you were barely holding on to control of your mind as well as your body. Stiles shouldn't have taken advantage of that. What he did was wrong.”

 

Derek shook his head vehemently. “No, he saved my life.”

 

“Maybe, but we don't know that. We don't know if Deaton could have just given you a shot and it would have been fine, or it could have faded on its own. Stiles chose for both of you when you were unable to consent and desperate. You know what we call that, Derek?”

 

“It's not like that!”

 

John sighed. His phone chirped and normally he wouldn't let that distract him, but he had a feeling he knew who it was.

 

_Dad, I think I did something really bad._

 

Then a second message came in, seconds after the first.

 

_I need you to arrest me._

 

God, but they were a pair, weren't they? John had no idea how to fix any of this, but maybe he could try. “Since the drugs were supernatural, officially the law won't be able to do anything for you, but if you need me to put my kid on house arrest for the rest of his natural life, I will set two deputies on him day and night.”

 

Derek deflated even more, now he was just a tight ball of misery with a leather jacket. John lightly touched his shoulder to try and draw him out again. Derek didn't flinch away and John thought maybe what that kid needed was more contact, not less. As a wolf, maybe words weren't able to reach all of him.

 

“Please don't,” Derek said. “He's... when the wolfsbane got into my system, I think it reacted to something that was already there.”

 

John smiled. “You like him. The flower just heightened and twisted it, is that what you think?”

 

Derek nodded. “Please don't make this harder than it already is.”

 

“Kiddo, you and my son are two remarkable people, you're both smart and kind, but by god you are both idiots.” John reached out and pulled Derek into a hug, and maybe the most surprising thing was that Derek let it happen, melted into it like a touch-starved child. Then again, maybe that's exactly what he was.

 

“He's had a crush on you for a long time, and I'm telling you this because you need to know that if you think that your motives weren't beyond reproach then neither were his. He probably saved your life, and this whole situation is so fucked up, but you don't have to ever talk to him again if you don't want to. Do you understand? I will keep him away from you if you want that.”

 

They sat there for a long time and John thought that maybe he heard some heavy breathing that might as well be sobs, but he didn't ask, just softly rubbed Derek's back the way he'd done with Stiles after Claudia's death. These tears weren't all about the wolfsbane incident and that was okay, Derek probably hadn't allowed himself to break down, not for years.

 

Stiles showed up twenty minutes later. John closed the door to his office, leaving Derek safely behind it. His son looked like shit, maybe close to a panic attack and definitely as bad as the early days after the sacrifice. Good.

 

“You really fucked up this time, son.”

 

Stiles' eyes widened. “Is he here?”

 

“I won't let you see him.”

 

“Is- is that what he wants?”

 

John couldn't answer because in that moment the door to his office opened and his son made a whimpering sound like a kicked puppy. There was some silent communication going on between the two and then suddenly Stiles launched himself at the werewolf. They were hugging, maybe, but it looked more entwined, more intimate, something that half the bullpen shouldn't be witnessing. Derek and his son didn't seem to notice, their foreheads pressed together and soft words exchanged between them. Words like  _sorry_ and  _please_ and  _I love you_ .

 

John somehow got them back into his office, closing the door from the outside. He didn't need to know. State law had no provision for werewolves and wolfsbane, but he knew that look on Stiles' face, the same look that Claudia had always given him.

 

At Deputy Parrish's desk, he looked up two numbers. One for a counselor specializing in sexual assault and abuse because a hug and some sweet words and even love wouldn't immediately fix this. And one for a company that did exfoliating. Herbicide with prejudice.


End file.
